a-plus (remix) - young dolph lyrics
[intro: young dolph]
a-plus
thug n-gga get your cake up
we’re smokin’ on that a-plus
uuuuh, uuuuh …
thick b-tch with me got that a-plus
yeah, it’s dolph
[verse 1: young dolph]
i’m flyin’ through the city in a 2 seater
runnin’ red lights pourin’ up syrup
thick b-tch with me poppin’ pain k!llers
i’m smokin’ loud a.k.a. that brain k!ller
bought a house in the hood to sell kush there
five franklyns for my prada footwear
my family infested with dope fiends
guess it run in my jeans cause i’m sprung on codeine
the bad b-tches show me love, the broke n-ggas hatin’
snitches tellin’ on me got the feds investigatin’
the illest n-gga in my city n-gga, straight up
these lil’ n-ggas midgrade, dolph a-plus
[hook]
first thing first when i wake up (what you do ?)
i brush my t–th and roll a blunt of a-plus
plus you sold kush he make you wanna lay us
i told lil’ mama, b-tch you got that a-plus (a-plus)
a-plus (a-plus), a-plus
she off the chain with it, i gave her a a-plus (a-plus)
a-plus (a-plus), a-plus
i pull up with the calculator, i’m servin’ a-plus
[verse 2: gucci mane]
since a pup, i been running with them thug n-ggas
from the 6, it’s a land full of drug dealers
you say you scared of what? you better be scared of us, n-gga
f-ck a entourage — bricks all on my bus, n-gga
i bought a mansion in the hills to hide dope there
i love sun valley, but there really ain’t no hope there
i bought a condo and i do not have no clothes there
we don’t f-ck hoes there, don’t do nothing but cook o’s there
seventeen years old, and i got ho fair
police catch me, they gonna strap me to that old chair
i’m paying twelve, ’bout to sweep it under the rug, n-gga
looking at the mirror, looking at the plug, n-gga
[hook]
[verse 3: young dolph]
i called my plug and spent a hundred on some a-plus
my b-tch one hundred, that mean she a-plus
gave her a stack just for her weave and her make-up
she quick to tell a f-ck n-gga, get your cake up
who the f-ck you think she got it from? she dolph girl
i’m counting money while she loading up the mossberg
seventy racks on my old-school, got a challenger on my left wrist
everything i got came from me pumping a-plus in south memphis
y’all know how i get down
in the trap going pound for pound
i got a little toy that hold a hundred rounds
dolce belt, gucci shirt, and a stupid–ss pair of d squares
i’m mismatching, but what the h-ll?
i’m in ruth’s chris with your man there
[hook]
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